


lost in your current

by angellwings



Category: Chicago Fire
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Alternate Universe - Music, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Mutual Pining, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-18 22:29:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29616402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angellwings/pseuds/angellwings
Summary: Every good story begins with a reversal of destiny.For the sake of a job, Gabby wanted to introduce him to her brother’s then-girlfriend. Antonio, who is an actor like his sister, had just begun dating a young successful country singer. She’d recently had a breakout crossover hit and her popularity had skyrocketed. She was looking to hire her own security team instead of contracting the work out to an agency.Gabby said she was wanting to hire someone with experience running a detail to be in charge of building a team from scratch.Aside from wanting to please Gabby, it genuinely sounded like a great opportunity for him and so he’d agreed to a meeting.That meeting was his reversal of destiny.
Relationships: Sylvie Brett/Matthew Casey
Comments: 154
Kudos: 157





	1. the first two years

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N:** So originally this fic was going to be a one shot but when I finished it, it was approaching 15k words and last time I wrote something that long it scared people away lol. So I decided to break this one shot up into smaller parts. Should be 6 total “chapters”.
> 
> This is definitely an AU. Not canon divergent. An actual AU. I decided to try my hand at a celebrity/bodyguard AU but make it Brettsey. ;) 
> 
> The lyrics in this fic are from Taylor Swift's "willow" by the way.
> 
> Hope you like it!
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> xoxo

_******_

_I'm like the water when your ship rolled in that night,_

_Rough on the surface but you cut through like a knife._

******

Every good story begins with a reversal of destiny.

Or at least that’s what Gabby used to tell him when she decided what scripts she found interesting.

If that’s true then he supposes his was the day Gabby decided they could no longer work together and date. She said it was impacting his work and he was letting their relationship make him _over_ protective.

But the thing is, being overprotective was exactly his job. He was a part of her security detail (and sometimes, depending on Gabby’s mood, in charge of it). He can see in hindsight that her decision to help him find another position was less about him and more about her. Gabby didn’t like people from her personal life helping her make professional decisions, and he had blurred those lines when they began dating.

Her solution was to introduce him to her brother’s then-girlfriend. Antonio, who is an actor like his sister, had just begun dating this young successful country singer. She’d recently had a breakout crossover hit and her popularity had skyrocketed. She was looking to hire her own security team instead of contracting the work out to an agency.

Gabby said she was wanting to hire someone with experience running a detail to be in charge of building a team from scratch.

Aside from wanting to please Gabby, it genuinely sounded like a great opportunity for him and so he’d agreed to a meeting.

That meeting was his reversal of destiny.

He had no idea then how much that job would change his life.

******

_**8** years ago…_

******

It took Gabby less than a day to set up this interview for him. She’s in an awful hurry to get rid of him and while part of him understands that she’s trying to look out for him, another part of him worries this might be the beginning of another downward spiral. Then again, if it is, wouldn’t it be better to work for someone else this time? The last time they’d broken up he’d been relegated guarding the car during all her events. Not the most exciting detail he’d ever been assigned. 

The interview is taking place at his prospective new client’s home in Los Angeles. He arrived exactly on time and was led through the gate at the base of her driveway and directed where to park. 

He knocks on her front door, expecting an assistant to answer. Gabby’s always does. Instead, he’s greeted by Sylvie Brett herself. But not the Sylvie Brett the world sees — awkwardly charming yet polished in her side braid and sparkly gowns. 

This Sylvie Brett is relaxed and barefoot wearing short denim overalls and a vintage Rush t-shirt. Her long blonde hair is piled up on top of her head and there’s barely any trace of makeup on her face. She looks much younger than twenty-three.

She smiles sweetly at him and holds out her hand for a shake. “Matt Casey, right?” She asks, blue eyes shining with welcoming warmth.

He nods and accepts her hand. “That’s me.”

“Great! Come on in,” she replies, stepping back from the doorway and waving him inside. “We’ll talk.”

He’s not sure what he was expecting given how young she is, but whatever that was she blows it out of the water. She’s poised and charming and _genuine_. They talk about her current security needs and what she’s afraid she may be lacking given the recent boom in her notoriety. She talks about wanting her own team because she feels it will allow her to ensure everyone is being paid fairly and provided generous benefits. She’s recently found out the security firm her team contracted was not paying everyone equally and providing them with the minimum expectations for insurance and retirement. Sylvie felt strongly that the people guarding her life or anyone working for her should be well taken care of. Matt wholeheartedly agreed.

After only one, admittedly short, conversation he’s already amazed by her — on a strictly platonic level, of course. Everything about her is different from any of his previous clients. Her house, while huge, is decorated to be lived in instead of shown off. She seems to feel comfortable being imperfect. And during the interview she talked to him as if they would truly be partners. Even told him she welcomed his input and criticism and didn’t want him to merely agree with her every command. In fact, she literally promised to never issue a command but to make well considered decisions they could both live with.

She doesn’t even know him and yet he can tell she respects him. She’s kind, tough, and smart. It’s a rare combination. He _likes_ her. He genuinely wants to work with her and get to know her. He has a gut feeling that Sylvie Brett understands what it means to truly be a friend. Loyalty is extremely important to him and he enjoys meeting people who appreciate it as much as he does.

“So,” she begins, smiling prettily at him. “What do you say, Matt? Do you think you’d want to work for me?”

He grins, amused that she doesn’t even want to pretend to be considering other applicants. Most people would, if only to point out who’s in charge. 

“I would love to come work for you,” he agrees. “When do I start?"

She lights up and immediately starts rambling on about contracts and salary and the budget she’s discussed with her lawyers — pulling out a highly organized and color coded binder as she does.

And that’s the moment he _knows_ she’s going to make this job both fun and challenging _._ The woman in front of him may be young, but she’s more complicated and brilliant than the world realizes. 

He looks forward to watching _her_ realize that for herself.

******

_And if it was an open/shut case,_

_I never would've known from that look on your face._

******

The true mettle of their friendship was tested in their first year together. She had to break away from the label she’d had from the beginning of her career. They’d been dictating the content of her albums despite the fact that the songs she penned herself were always her biggest hits. They didn’t want to relinquish creative control. So, when her contract was up, she walked.

It had been a hard decision and, surprisingly, she’d confided in him at a time when she seemed to be shutting everyone else out. It wasn’t in his job description to be her friend, but he didn’t care. He wanted to be her friend and to support her.

Still does.

The label she’s with now has no problem letting her define every aspect of her music and the presentation of it. She’s much happier career-wise which means Matt is much happier too. Her happiness affects him. 

It always has, even in the early days.

******

_**7** years ago…_

******

They were supposed to be in town for contract negotiations and to hopefully start recording Sylvie’s next album, but it all came to a screeching halt for some reason. The only people in the know are Sylvie’s management team and her lawyers. Security is left to piece together the vague information they can glean between the opening and closing of doors and the grim expression on Sylvie’s face.

Matt doesn’t like it. Sylvie’s always so happy and hopeful. Seeing her angry or disappointed makes him want to spring into action and fix it. He has no idea how he’d do that, but he wants to nonetheless.

He’s waiting outside a conference room at her label’s headquarters when suddenly Sylvie steps out alone. She shuts the conference room door softly, but the expression on her face is seething.

When the door opened he could hear lawyers droning on about what would happen if an agreement couldn’t be reached. He didn’t know much about the music business but he knew that couldn’t be good.

“Matt,” she says in a voice full of restrained anger. “I need to get some air.”

He nods immediately. “Not a problem. There’s a courtyard on the first floor that we can easily clear—“

“No,” she says with a sigh. “I need to go for a drive. _Away_ from the building. Just me and one guard. Can we arrange that?”

She asks. She doesn’t demand. It’s a strange adjustment for him — to be _asked_ things.

He thinks over the crew they have with them and the area they’re in and counts how many photographers were outside when they came in. He’s not sure it’s a good idea, given people outside know she’s here by now, but he’s never seen Sylvie look quite so pent up. It’s obvious to him she needs to let off some steam.

“I’m not sure a drive is a good idea,” he replies honestly. “Can I make an alternate suggestion?”

Her shoulders sag and her fingers massage her temples but she still nods.

“You have access to the executive gym. I think it’s about time you used it,” he says with a smirk. “You ever boxed before?”

“No,” she says as a curious smirk tugs at her mouth.

“Would you like to try it? Or at least throw a few wild punches?”

“Yes,” she replies immediately, hands forming fists at her sides.

“You got it,” he promises with a grin.

He’s got a small team of three people with her today and it’s easy to coordinate. The other two guard the executive gym doors while Matt goes inside with Sylvie. 

He helps her with the gloves and points her toward the sandbag, demonstrating how to punch as he does. “But if all else fails,” he says. “Just smack the shit out of it. You look like you need to vent. Better the bag than a room full of record executives.”

“You have no idea,” she mutters before rearing back and angrily striking the bag, with more force than he expected. “A room of old white men wants to tell me what kind of music my fans want to hear and claims that since it’s their money that’s being invested in me they should be able to have the final say.”

He stands on the other side of the bag, holding it while she strikes it again. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“No, it doesn’t, does it? Last I checked, _my songs_ are the ones that sell. Anytime I release a single the label picks out, it barely cracks the top 50. They don’t understand me as an artist and it’s painfully obvious. My songs recoup at least double they’re investment.”

She growls and punches again, this time causing the bag to hit him in the chest — nearly knocking the wind out of him.

“I am the best person to curate my album!” She yells, giving up on punching. She slaps the bag with her glove repeatedly while talking. “I know my fans and I know myself and I know what will satisfy all of us! And, you know what, I have enough clout now that if _they_ won’t let me be in control then _someone else_ will.”

She freezes mid punch with wide startled eyes and then points a blinding smile at him.

“Oh my god. Someone else will!” She exclaims. “I don’t have to stay here! I didn’t even think about—“ She cuts herself off and then launches herself at Matt.

He realizes what’s going on just in time and manages to catch her. She hugs him tightly and then pulls back with a wide determined grin.

“Thank you!” She tells him, squeezing his shoulders before stepping out of his arms. “This is exactly what I needed!” She holds out her gloved hands to him with a self deprecating chuckle. “I don’t remember how to get these off. Help?”

He laughs and nods before getting to work on the gloves. “So, what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to pursue my options. They’ll be at least one label in this town who’ll agree to give me creative control. I know it. I need to go back to that conference room, collect my team, and get to work!”

With her optimism and sheer force of will, he had no doubt she’d end up being right. In the short time he’d worked with her, he’d learned _never_ to underestimate Sylvie Brett and it seems her label was about to learn that lesson the hard way.


	2. the next five years

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt notices things beginning to change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** Posting three more sections for you guys tonight! And I’m adjusting my chapter count so this is going to have 4 “chapters” total. Can’t wait for you guys to see what’s coming up next! Thank you so much for being willing to read an AU! I know not everyone enjoys them so thank you for taking this journey with me!
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> xoxo

******

_The more that you say, the less I know,_

_Wherever you stray, I follow._

******

Three years after Sylvie hired him, Gabby and Antonio were both out of the picture. They’d run off to Europe and decided to act, produce, and direct among the overseas independent film crowd. Their abrupt exit from their lives brought Matt and Sylvie closer than ever before.

Someday, he’d like to thank the Dawson siblings for leaving. They unknowingly gave him his best friend. As much as Gabby leaving had hurt at the time, now he sees her for what she was.

A stepping stone on his path to Sylvie.

******

_**5** years ago…_

******

Antonio left for Europe a year ago so, really, Matt should have seen this coming.

The Dawsons tended to stick together.

Plus, it’s not as though he and Gabby had been extremely happy as of late. After years of planning a hypothetical future together (a wedding, a quiet house in the country some place, kids) she told him she changed her mind on marriage and a quiet life. She’d been afraid to tell him because she knew how much he wanted it. He assured her he didn’t care. He just wanted a life with _her_ no matter what that life looked like, but he wasn’t sure she ever believed him.

He’d been away on tour with Sylvie the last few months. They had a break between the first leg and the second leg so he’d gone home.

Only to find Gabby in his apartment packing up the few things she kept there, which wasn’t much because they spent most of their time together at her place. Not that they’d had much of that lately, between Sylvie’s touring schedule and Gabby’s filming schedule.

Gabby had pushed him toward the job, but now that he had fully invested in it she seemed resentful. Another reason he should have seen the break up coming.

She’d gotten a job on a television series that would be filming all over Europe for over a year, at least. Antonio had gotten a similar gig when he’d left and it was supposed to be temporary too, but he’d never come back.

Matt had been the one to help Sylvie pick up the pieces. The selfish bastard.

“I’m sorry, Matt,” Gabby told him with a watery sigh as she shouldered a large duffle bag. “But I can’t pass this up. The pilot script is amazing.”

He nodded and forced a friendly smile. “I know and I wouldn’t want you too.”

“You could come with me?” She suggested half-heartedly.

“And do what? Work for you? You’ve already said that doesn’t work and you were right. Besides, I love my job. I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.”

“I’m gonna miss you, Matt Casey,” she replied, expression growing heartbroken and resigned as she realized he had no intention of leaving with her.

Why did they have to want such different things in life? That had always gotten in their way. He loves her but that isn’t always enough. “I’ll miss you too, Gabby. I hope this series is everything you want it to be.”

So, instead of relaxing with his girlfriend as he’d planned, he’d spent his two week break diving into Sylvie’s new cyber-security measures. His LAPD contact had gotten him in touch with a guy named Mouse. Word of mouth is that he’s the best in the business and can set up impenetrable firewalls.

The number of leaks or hacks plaguing people of Sylvie’s celebrity status had been worrying him. He didn’t want her personal photos or videos or even her home security camera footage getting out to the general public because some jackass broke into her cloud or whatever it’s called. Unfortunately, the security risks inherent in technology are now a part of his job too.

He’d kept himself busy so as not to think about Gabby, but keeping it all buried down so deep was beginning to become exhausting.

The tour is starting back up and he’s been in a foul mood leading up to the first show of the second leg. He knows he has been, but he can’t seem to stop himself.

He’s feeling angry and abandoned and deceived, but then he also still loves Gabby so there’s hurt, longing, and heartbreak mixing in with all his other emotions. He’s tired of feeling so damn much and simply wants to forget her.

But forgetting her feels impossible.

He’d pinned his entire future on her.

What a joke that was now.

He stops into the greenroom where Sylvie’s eating a quick dinner and his eyes land on a black trash bag full of stuffed animals and handmade fan tokens.

“What are those doing here?” He asks the guard by the door.

He’s new. Matt can’t recall his name. Normally, he would feel bad about that, but Severide hired him for the expanded tour staff. 

During a tour they took on more people. They needed security teams at all of Sylvie’s properties (she now had four homes, yes _four_ ) and an advance team to prep hotels and venues in the next city (which Severide was in charge of, Matt didn’t trust anyone else to do it right), and then the larger team that kept an eye on backstage and the backstage parking area.

“Um, they’re from the fans. I was told Sylvie looks through them before every show—“

“She does, but only _after_ one of us does,” Matt snaps irritably. “Has anyone else looked through it?”

“No? I mean, I don’t think so?”

“Are you asking me or telling me?” He says with a scoff. “It’s not a difficult question.”

“I—I, uh—“

“Gallo,” Sylvie says in her softest voice — the one she saves for panicking fans. “Why don’t you go ask Cruz if anyone went through the bag before you picked it up?” She suggests. “Matt can keep an eye on me until you get back.”

Matt turns toward her with a sharp glare. He opens his mouth to ask why she stopped him from giving a well deserved lecture but stops when Sylvie’s compassionate blue gaze finds his.

“Don’t take your frustrations out on the new kid. Gallo was just doing what he was told,” Sylvie gently scolds him once Gallo’s out of earshot. “We both know you’re not upset about the bag of stuffed animals. Not _really_.”

“I don’t wanna talk about it.”

She chuckles and then steps over to the door, shutting it and allowing them some privacy. “I’m sure you don’t. Neither did I when Antonio left, and what ended up happening with that? If you recall _someone_ made me vent even if it was the last thing I wanted.”

“That was different—“

“How?”

“You had a show to do! You had a live televised performance and you needed to get it off your chest so you could work.”

“Yeah, and you have a crew to lead,” Sylvie points out. “So, get it all off your chest, Matt. That way you can stop terrorizing our employees.”

Her stare is firm but kind and it doesn’t flinch from his. Finally, she wears him down. His shoulders slump and he collapses into a nearby armchair. “I feel like an idiot.”

“Why?” Sylvie asks in surprise.

“I planned my whole future around her,” he confesses. “And now she sends her assistant to drop a box of my stuff off at my house. She won’t even text me, Sylvie.”

“You’ve broken up before though, right?”

“Not like this,” he admits. Saying that thought out loud suddenly makes the situation more real than it was a few moments ago. “This feels different. _Permanent_. Every other time we still talked — acted like friends — but this has been cold turkey. Like we both know a clean break is the only way to let each other go. It’s _awful_. Do you know how many times I’ve almost called her during the last two weeks? Too many to count.”

“You guys have been together a long time. That makes sense,” she assures him.

“Yeah, but it’s not even that. It’s that I’m comfortable with her. Moving on to someone new seems... _terrifying_. I’ve spent years memorizing and growing accustomed to Gabby Dawson and now I have to throw all of that out and start from scratch with a brand new person.” He huffs and rubs a hand over his eyes, letting his head fall onto the back of the chair. “What a fucking waste, you know?”

“Loving someone is never a waste of time, Matt. Even if they don’t appreciate your love the way they should,” Sylvie replies softly. “No one ever truly loses who takes a shot at love. You only lose if you live to regret never taking your shot. You gave your all to that relationship and now you never have to wonder what might have been. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

It sounds so simple when she puts it that way.

“I guess so. I mean in theory I agree with you, but it's a hell of a lot harder to truly believe that while you’re in the middle of the loss.”

“Yeah,” she replies with a hopeless sigh. “I remember that feeling. If it helps, we could write a song about her.” She stops and smirks at him, eyes twinkling mischievously. “I’ve written nearly half an album about Antonio. I have no problem throwing another Dawson into the mix.”

He chuckles but then frowns as another thought comes to him. “Aren’t you and Gabby friends?”

“We _were_. She hasn’t talked to me since Antonio broke up with me.” Sylvie shrugs and tucks a loose blonde strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s fine, though. I get it. He’s her brother, after all.”

“It’s _not_ fine,” Matt insists. “That’s a shitty thing to do, even I know that and I’m in love with her.”

“Well, then you should know, I think her leaving you without giving you any sort of warning is a pretty shitty thing to do too. You deserve more than that. I know exactly how that feels and it _sucks_.”

“You deserved more than that too, from both Dawsons.”

“Thank you for saying so,” she replies. “You know there’s one truly good thing that you and I will always be grateful to the Dawsons for.”

“What’s that?” He asks.

“Each other. Without them I never would have met or hired you, and you, Matt Casey, have proven yourself absolutely necessary to my life. I’m glad you’re a part of it.”

He smiles warmly at her and nods, reaching across the distance to pat her knee. “That’s a damn good point. I’m glad you’re a part of my life too. Honestly, I don’t wanna think about where I’d be now if Gabby hadn’t arranged that meeting.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Sylvie says, covering his hand with hers. “It can’t be changed and even if it could, I wouldn’t let it. I hope you don’t mind having me as a boss because you’re stuck with me forever now.”

He laughs and nods. “I figured as much. Bring it on, Brett. I’m just as stubborn as you are and I have no plans to leave.”

******

_Life was a willow and it bent right to your wind._

_Head on the pillow, I could feel you sneaking in._

******

He wasn’t sure how they’d gotten closer exactly, because within those first five years he’d worked with her they’d become invaluable friends already, but something had intensified with each day they spent together. The platonic nature of his preoccupation dwindled a little more every month until his feelings for her had grown and shifted into a full blown infatuation.

Even if he didn’t see it at first.

It happened so gradually that he couldn’t even pinpoint it’s beginning. The only thing he remembered for sure is the moment he finally saw his feelings for what they were.

******

_**3** years ago…_

******

“Ah, you’re here!” Sylvie exclaims excitedly. “I’m starving!”

“That’s good because I wasn’t sure which dish you were in the mood for so I brought all your favorites,” Matt replies with a light laugh as he steps past her and into the house. “I know how you forget to eat when you’re writing and recording. Or excitedly doing anything that you like to do.”

“Well, it's a good thing you stop by to check on me after every recording session then,” she says with a teasing chuckle as she steps aside to let him in the front door.

“Someone should,” he tells her with a fond grin.

“Sylvie? Who is it?” A familiar voice calls from the next room. It sounds far away and tinny but he definitely recognizes it.

“It’s Matt, mom!” She yells back without looking toward the voice. “He brought dinner over.”

“Oh, Matt! Come in here! I wanna see you!”

“Facetime,” Sylvie explains with a chuckle. “She’s updating me on the Chicago house hunting.”

“Oh good,” Matt responds as he walks into the living room with the bag of food and sets it down on her coffee table -- next to her laptop. He gives her mother a friendly smile as she looks up at him from the computer screen. “It’s good to see you again, Mrs. Brett. Did you find any worthwhile places for her today?”

“A couple,” Martha Brett replies. “But nothing worth making a move on yet. I’m seeing more places tomorrow. I’ll keep you in the loop.”

“Um, _after_ you keep me in the loop, right?” Sylvie asks her with a pointed glance.

“Of course, dear,” Martha says before giving Matt a subtle wink. 

For every property Sylvie has purchased, Martha has had Matt look into the area first to make sure they’ll be able to employ the appropriate security measures. Only after it has Matt’s approval, does she show that property to Sylvie. They’ve developed a system over the years. It’s a well oiled machine at this point.

“Matthew,” Martha says as she narrows her eyes on him. “Are you spending Thanksgiving or Christmas with us this year?”

He chuckles as he reaches into the bag and begins sorting through the food. He answers as he hands Sylvie her usual orders. “Christmas, if you don’t mind. I’m sending Severide to your place for Thanksgiving so I can see my sister and my niece. They’re going on a ski trip over Christmas so I won’t have anyone to visit then anyway.”

“Well, Sam will be so happy to hear that,” Martha tells him. “He recently bought himself a box of the _good_ cigars and has no one to smoke them with.”

“Then tell Mr. Brett to save me a couple,” Matt requests with a grin. “I’ll be there in a few weeks and then we can smoke them together. In fact, tell him to set a couple aside for Severide too. He’s a cigar guy like us.”

“I will pass that along,” Sylvie’s mother assures him. “Alright well, I’m gonna get off of here and let you two eat. Clearly you both need to eat more anyway. The camera is supposed to add ten pounds but I swear you two look thinner and thinner each time I see you.”

Sylvie rolls her eyes affectionately and gives her mother a patient smile. “Neither of us is any thinner, mom. We’re eating plenty. In fact, Matt bought me three meals for tonight alone. Apparently he thinks I’m a pig.”

“Hey! That’s not fair! I just didn’t know which one you’d be in the mood for or how many meals you’d forgotten to eat today,” Matt says defensively, throwing a packet of Duck Sauce at her.

She laughs when bounces off of her head and throws another packet back at him. “If you’re not careful you’re going to start a food fight!”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Matt quips with a loud laugh. He looks at Mrs. Brett with a bemused expression. “You’re daughter is a musically gifted mess and the biggest goofball I’ve ever met.”

“And _you_ are a curmudgeon who acts about twice your actual age. Without me you’d be Walter Matthau in Grumpy Old Men,” Sylvie teases, bumping his shoulder as she opens one of her containers.

“Sounds like the perfect partnership if you ask me,” Martha comments, giving them a familiar look that Matt has never truly been able to interpret. “Have fun, you two. Take it easy tonight.”

They wish her goodbye with a quick wave and then she disconnects the call, leaving them alone.

Sylvie picks through her food as some sort of strange tension lingers between them. He’s not sure how to label it but whatever it is has been happening more and more over the last year at least. Sylvie blushes and clears her throat, purposefully keeping her eyes on her food.

“So, you’re seeing Christie and Violet for Thanksgiving?” She asks, the teasing tone from earlier has vanished from her voice. He misses it.

He nods. “I have to go to Chicago anyway to look over your list of final property choices so it worked out perfectly.”

“Well, that’s good. I know they miss you considering how often I keep you away from home.”

“I haven’t lived in Chicago for at least 10 years, Sylvie. You’re not keeping me away from anything. Besides, if you are relocating there like you say then I’ll be back home soon enough.”

She nods in acceptance of his words and sighs in relief. “Good. Chicago will be good for me I think. Being within a six hour round trip car ride of my family will be wonderful. It’s been a long time since I’ve lived that close to them. I truly can’t wait. Plus, I just need a change of scene after everything that went down with Kyle, you know?”

He bites back a scowl at the mention of her most recent ex. He has no reason to dislike Kyle. He’s a perfectly nice guy and he was very good to Sylvie. At least until the tabloids got a hold of their relationship and made it out to be something a lot _sexier_ than it actually was. Normally, that wouldn’t be a big deal, but Kyle is associate pastor at one of the largest nondenominational churches in Los Angeles. His congregation didn’t like the public perception of the relationship. So he ended it. Just like that.

The message it sent to Sylvie is what bugged Matt the most. It reinforced this idea that the public nature of her life is more hassle than it’s worth for anyone living outside of it. She’s been slowly becoming more and more private as the years go on in an attempt to protect the people she cares about from scrutiny. The break up with Kyle certain didn’t ease any of those fears.

“Yeah,” he replies. “I get it.”

“Oh!” Sylvie exclaims, grabbing his forearm suddenly. “So, I met my new trainer today! Her name is Olivia and she is a badass and adorable! You would love her!”

“Oh yeah?” He asks, feigning interest.

She nods. “You should let me set you up!”

He nearly chokes on his food and stares at her with wide eyes. “Excuse me?”

She’s never offered to set him up with _anyone_ before. He was not expecting that.

“Come on, you haven’t truly gone out with anyone since Gabby left. I mean there was that reporter you had a little fling with a while back, but we both know that wasn’t serious. Olivia could be something serious, I think! She’s really great and just your type! You know, brunette and a real go-getter? Sassy and self sufficient--”

He interrupts her with a soft chuckle. “I don’t know that I have a type,” he says. “I just date whoever I happen to like.”

“Well, either way, this is perfect because I know you’ll like her!” she declares. She sounds so confident that he almost believes her. 

Almost being the key word.

He has been on a few dates recently, but he hasn’t told her about them. Mostly because they confused him. No matter who he went out with he found himself wishing he were hanging out with Sylvie instead. Being with anyone else just made that ache for her bigger and more uncontrollable. But it was a bad idea and he knew it. The last time he’d dated a client they’d run off to Europe to get away from him. He can’t run that risk with Sylvie.

He needs her too much.

So, he doesn’t want to date Olivia, but he can’t exactly tell her that because that would mean telling her _why_. And that’s a big _hell no_ for the moment.

“Sure, okay, why not?” he agrees with a shrug.

“Exactly! Why not?” 

She sounds excited, but he’s not sure he believes her. The smile on her face doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Maybe it’s his imagination, but she almost looks disappointed.

It was her idea to set him up in the first place. So why would she seem disappointed that he reluctantly agreed?

“I’ll give her your number at tomorrow’s session,” Sylvie says, spearing a bit of orange chicken onto her fork.

He swallows down a hopeless sigh and nods. “Sounds great.”

Stop projecting and trying to see something that isn’t there, he tells himself. You’re her friend and colleague. Nothing more.

He knows this date with Olivia won’t go anywhere, but if he doesn’t try then he’ll never put these sudden feelings for Sylvie behind him. And he _needs_ to put them behind him. 

He loves her too much to risk ever losing her.

Jesus, he’s so screwed.

******

_As if you were a mythical thing,_

_Like you were a trophy or a champion ring,_

_There was one prize I'd cheat to win._

******

He had no delusions she might also want him so he stood back and kept quiet. Despite how normal she pretended to be, Sylvie lived a glamorous life where she met men far more appealing than him. He was fine being just her friend if it meant he kept her in his life.

Sometimes that meant swallowing his jealousy and faking a smile. He hated those times.

******

_**2** years ago…_

******

“Hey,” Severide says as he stops beside Matt at the craft services table. He bumps Casey’s arm and then gestures across the room with a nod of his head. “Guess who showed up to the video shoot today?”

Matt slowly and casually turns, nearly groaning at the sight that greets him. “Grainger? Doesn’t that guy have training or something? With his salary he has to have some sort of work that would keep him busy, right?”

“The season’s over and Spring Training hasn’t started. The guy’s got all the free time in the world right now,” Kelly replies with a smirk. “Besides, if you insist on limiting yourself to the dug out then I don’t think you have the right to complain.”

“I’m not complaining,” Matt grumbles. “Just confused about how he made it to the MLB with that kind of work ethic.”

Severide snorts and rolls his eyes. “Yeah, sure. That’s what this is. If you’re not going to make a move then she’s going to date other guys. You know that, right?”

“You’re one to talk,” Matt fires back. “You asked out the new back up singer yet?”

“I can’t just ask her out. There’s an awkward history there. It’s messy,” Severide admits with a wince.

“You think I don’t understand messy? Man, I’m in love with my ex-girlfriend’s ex-best friend who now happens to be my best friend. How much messier can your story be?”

“Her ex-husband tried to bludgeon me with a banjo.”

Matt laughs, possibly too loudly, but that’s one sentence he never thought he’d hear. “Why? What did you do?”

“I dared to casually date her after they divorced and apparently he didn’t think that was acceptable.”

“The nerve of you. To date a single woman,” Matt replies with a mirthful scoff.

“Yeah, turns out I’ve been doing the whole dating thing wrong this entire time, who knew?” Severide asks him sarcastically. “Speaking of dating...again. Are you seriously not going to do anything about Grainger?”

“What am I supposed to do?” He asks, leaning toward his best friend to whisper. “I’m still too chickenshit to ruin our friendship and she deserves to be happy. I can’t stand in her way. That wouldn’t be fair to her.”

“You ever considered that she might be into you too and just waiting for you to make a move?” Kelly asks, picking up a paper plate and then glancing through the pastry options.

“No, I haven’t,” Matt confesses, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. “Why would she want me when she has guys like _Grainger_ eating out of the palm of her hand? She can have anyone she wants. She’s not gonna choose me.”

Severide sighs tiredly, shrugs, and then clamps a hand down on Matt’s shoulder. “You underestimate yourself. If you ask me, you’re the best guy she could choose. The two of you have been good for each other. I’m just saying, don’t give up on it because you _assume_ it won’t go your way.”

“This isn't about me,” he says adamantly. “It’s about her and her happiness. I’m not going to ruin that for her.”

“Whatever, man,” Severide says in exasperation as he finally picks a pastry. “Your happiness matters too. I don’t want you to miss your shot at it.”

He walks away from Matt without a single glance backward and leaves him contemplating his words. He doesn't want to miss his shot at happiness either, but it’s not that simple.

It never is with him.


	3. one year ago

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tragedy strikes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** Warning you now, this chapter is angsty. Sorry not sorry. The last chapter is coming tomorrow night! Since we don’t have CF I thought I’d make sure to give you the grand finale on One Chicago Wednesday! 
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> xoxo

******

_You know that my train could take you home,_

_Anywhere else is hollow._

******

As it turned out, Grainger was merely a momentary distraction for Sylvie. It was an awful thing to say, but he was relieved when her fling with the athlete ended. He was also glad that he stuck to his instincts and kept his own discomfort to himself.

He would set aside his jealousy every time if it meant keeping her. They’d been through too much together for him to lose her now. 

Not after the crash and Otis.

 _Almost_ losing her.

All it took to shake him to his very core was one tragic accident. As her head of security, he could plan for nearly every emergency but he couldn’t plan for the things no one ever intends to happen.

He was even more determined to hold onto her after that — in any way she’d let him.

******

_**1** year ago…_

******

Two back to back shows in New York City always meant a small party in Sylvie’s room after the show. Typically they were racing off to their next destination as soon as the show ended -- by plane or by bus -- and didn’t have time to celebrate or enjoy the adrenaline high. But back to back show nights were different.

Especially when they all know a tour is winding down.

There’s something special about being on tour. Matt’s glad tours are temporary things because they’re truly a test of endurance, but he can’t deny that the sense of community and accomplishment is strong amongst the crew. A tour coming to a close feels a bit like when you were a kid and the end of the school year began closing in. It’s frenzied and yet nostalgic. 

The second half of the second leg of a tour consistently has that same energy.

In the early days when this sort of energy overwhelmed Sylvie, she would take her back up singers and go dancing. Matt spent many nights during those first three or four years standing outside a velvet VIP rope and feeling completely out of place. But she’d come to value her privacy more and more each year so now she preferred spending the night in with whatever members of her crew were still awake.

Two-in-a-rows, as the crew had taken to calling them, also meant Sylvie encouraged them to invite their friends and family out to see the show. So, tonight her hotel suite is full to the brim with people.

It takes him a while to find her, but when he does she’s sitting in between Otis and Joe with their girlfriends flanking the outside of the trio. Of all the people Matt had hired for the security team all those years ago, Sylvie had bonded with Otis and Joe quicker than any of the others -- including himself.

Otis doubled as her bus driver. They took her tour bus less and less these days so it didn’t make sense to hire someone whose only job was to drive her bus. They were flying more than they used to since her tours tended to be larger and the venues further apart. But when they did take the bus, as they would be doing tomorrow night, Otis drove them.

It offered Matt great relief to know that if he ever had to skip a bus journey, at least Otis would be with her. And Joe went everywhere Otis did so no doubt Joe would be there too. Matt had a small list of people who were allowed to guard Sylvie directly. It included himself, Severide, Otis, and Joe. He knew those three men would do whatever they could to keep Sylvie safe and, to him, that was the most important thing.

Otis had also been a part of Sylvie’s original security detail when her label had contracted that work out and he was her inspiration for hiring her own dedicated team instead. She and Otis hadn’t known each other extremely well at the time, but Sylvie liked him and trusted him. When she hired Matt, she made it clear Otis would be hired too. Even back then he knew better than to disagree with her when it came to her friendship and loyalty.

Sylvie’s eyes connect with Matt’s across the room and she beams at him, jumping up from the couch. “Good! Matt’s here! Now we can play!”

His brow furrows at her as she rushes toward him, tripping slightly over a floor cushion. 

“Play what?” He asks as he instinctively catches her around the waist.

“Charades! I need a partner and you’re the only person who gets my clues!” She exclaims with an infectious giggle. “Either that or Otis and Joe are terrible guessers.”

She leans a little further into him, her hand lightly trailing up his back, he fights off a shiver. Touchy feely, giggly, and clumsy Sylvie makes rare appearances, but when she does he knows exactly what’s happened. 

“You have done some drinking,” he observes with a crooked amused smirk. 

“We had a perfect show and a perfect crowd!” She explains. “I’m celebrating. Now, come on! Charades! You’re on my team!”

She grabs his hand and drags him over to the couch. Joe and Chloe move to the oversized arm chair in the corner, Chloe sitting on his lap, to make room for Matt.

“No!” Emily, one of Sylvie’s dancers, protests with a huff. “If you two are a team then the rest of us don’t stand a chance! Especially not when I’m paired up with the new girl!”

The new girl, Gianna, rolls her eyes with a bemused scowl. “I may be new but I kick ass at charades! Ask Joe!”

Joe nods, looking gravely serious while fighting off a smile. “It’s true she does.”

“Yeah, but you’ve never played against those two before. It’s like they can read each other’s minds. It’s cute most of the time, but annoying as hell during Charades,” Emily teases throwing a handful of popcorn at Sylvie.

Sylvie tries to bat it away but completely misses and accidentally hits him in the eye instead.

“Ow!” Matt yells with a dry chuckle as he holds a hand over his eye.

“Oh my god!” Sylvie cries. “I’m so sorry! Are you okay? Let me see.”

“Hey!” Otis says with a soft laugh. “If he’s blind in one eye that’ll almost make it a fair game!”

Sylvie reaches behind her and slaps Otis’s shoulder. “Shut up! That’s not funny!”

The grin on her face tells a different story.

“Seriously,” Sylvie says as she turns her attention back to him. “Let me look at it.”

“It’s fine,” Matt protests. It really is, just a bit sore. He thinks he might have a bruise there later but there’s no real damage.

“Come on, stop being so macho and let me see,” Sylvie argues with a scoff.

He removes his hand with a tired sigh, allowing Sylvie to inspect the damage. She winces and then respositions herself on the couch so that she’s sitting up on her knees and leaning over him.

Her hand cups the side of his face while her thumb tenderly caresses the edge of his reddened slightly swelling skin. “That’s gonna bruise,” she says with an apologetic expression.

His eyes meet hers, forcing him to realize just how close she’s gotten. For a moment he’s breathless at the sight of her crystal blue eyes staring deeply into his. If they weren’t in a room full of their colleagues and friends he could potentially lean in and kiss her. He’d like to. He’s imagined it often enough. He also firmly believes that if he did he’d never be able to go without kissing her ever again. One taste and he knows he’d be addicted.

Best not to indulge in that gateway drug at the moment.

He smiles softly at her and breathes in her nearness. Memorizes her scent -- a dizzying combination of coconut and tropical flowers from the shower she took just before they all arrived-- and the lines of her face as she peers at him in deep and genuine concern.

“Guess I’ll have to come up with an interesting story to explain it,” he replies with a playful grin. “My boss accidentally poking me in the eye while she was drunk isn’t exactly going to impress anyone, is it?”

She laughs and idly skims her fingers through his hair and over his scalp. He catches himself a moment before he starts to lean into her hand and close his eyes. “Just tell them you got it defending me from a crazy fan. I’m sure the girls will fall all over you. We love those knights in shining armor types.”

How does he tell her that the only girl he wants falling for him is the one sitting next to him right now? Should he ask if _she_ loves knights in shining armor? Because if he can, he’d like to be that for her. For the rest of her life.

“Are we gonna play or is Casey being moved to the injured list?” Otis asks, narrowing his eyes on them.

“No,” Casey answers, clearing his throat and sitting up straighter to put a little more space between him and Sylvie. “We’re playing and Sylvie and I are going to kick all your asses.”

“Yeah, we are!” Sylvie yells, happily pumping her fist into the air.

They do, in fact, kick ass. Otis and Emily grumble about it being unfair for the rest of the night and how his and Sylvie’s near supernatural ability to read each other gives them an advantage, but he and Sylvie ignore them. They gloat in an unsportsmanlike fashion for the remainder of the party.

He pulls himself away from Sylvie as the night is winding down to grab a bottle of water and when he does Otis follows him. Matt hands him a bottle and they both lean against the small dining table as they drink.

“So,” Otis says. He drags out the vowel sound for a long time before he continues. “Are you _ever_ going to tell her you’re in love with her?”

Matt nearly chokes on his water. He manages to swallow but not without a few strangled coughs. “What?”

“It’s clear to everyone and their dog that you are utterly devoted to her, man. Well, everyone _except_ Sylvie. You’ve already almost lost her to two different guys so I gotta ask...what the hell are you waiting on? A bolt of lightning? An explicitly spelled out sign?”

Otis looks more and more baffled the longer he speaks and when he’s done Matt can’t find it in him to do anything other than stare at him in shock. No one’s ever confronted him about his feelings so plainly before. Not even Severide.

“It’s just I’ve known Sylvie a long time now,” Otis explains. “And I’ve never seen her as happy with anyone as she is when she’s with you. Same goes for you. Neither one of you realize how much you light up around each other. I don’t know. I’d hate for you to lose her because you’re both too afraid to take that last step is all I’m saying.” He shrugs and pats Matt on the shoulder before backing away from him. “Think about it.”

And then he’s gone, slipping back into the crowd.

Even minutes after the conversation ends, Matt’s still standing in that same place in contemplative astonished silence.

Otis is right. He has almost lost her twice. You’d think Sheffield and Grainger would have taught him a lesson or two. What is he waiting on? Why can’t he simply tell her?

Otis’ word of warning follows Matt around for the next twenty four hours. Through a restless night of half sleep, through the morning press schedule, through the soundcheck and the show. It follows him all the way onto the bus as they load up for upstate New York.

Sylvie finds him an hour and a half into the drive and plops herself down next to him on the couch at the back of the bus. She’s in a pair of comfy sweats with her hair up and her face washed clean of any make up. She’s in her natural, vulnerable state and the fact that she’s always felt comfortable being that way with him fills his chest with overwhelming affection. To him, she’s never been more entrancing than she is in that moment.

“You okay?” She asks him as she pulls one leg underneath her and twists herself toward him. “You’ve been quiet since the party last night.”

“Yeah,” he replies, nodding thoughtfully. “Had a lot on my mind today. Nothing to worry about.”

Her brow furrows and he can tell she doesn’t believe him. “Matt,” she says with a doubtful expression. “I know you better than that. Come on. Talk to me.”

Otis’ words come back to him again. If he’s waiting for a sign or a bolt of lightning then this feels like his moment. He glances around the back of the bus, realizing they’re alone. No time will ever be the perfect time and if he keeps waiting for that then he’ll never tell her. Never telling her is not an option.

So, why not now?

“Sylvie, I um—“ His tongue tangles with his words and his hands start to sweat. He wipes them on his sweatpants and swallows nervously, trying to moisten his dry throat. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to say to you.”

“Okay,” she replies, smiling kindly. “You know you can always tell me anything.”

“This might be a little more than you bargained for,” he warns her with a self deprecating grin.

There’s no chance she feels for him what he feels for her. He’s never been that lucky.

“I doubt that,” Sylvie says softly, reaching out and covering his hand with hers.

Their eyes meet and the look in hers is pleading yet patient. She wants to know why he’s so worked up but she’s willing to wait him out. That whole concept touches him so much that he finds himself eager to spill his guts in a way he’s never been before.

He opens his mouth to speak but before he can the bus pitches perilously and suddenly Otis can be heard yelling from the driver’s seat.

“Fuck! Everybody hold on to something!”

The urgency in Otis voice has Matt desperately grabbing onto Sylvie with one hand and the table next to them with the other. He’s not sure what’s happening but that table is solidly bolted to the floor.

A handful of seconds later a horrible sound fills the air. A disgusting combination of metal scraping metal, glass breaking, and tires squealing.

The bus bumps and jolts and then begins to tilt. It feels as if they hang in mid air for a moment but he’s sure they don’t. As the bus swings and sways his grip on Sylvie slips. His heart is pounding and he can hear his blood pumping in his ears — roaring like a freight train — but everything else goes eerily silent. Sylvie’s lips are moving and he knows she’s yelling but no sound hits his ears. Her waist is sliding out of his grasp and she’s desperately coiling her fingers in his shirt. Every muscle he’s got stretches and burns as he tries to hold onto both her and the table.

As the bus finally begins to careen onto its side, items fall out of storage spaces. They hit both of them and bounce around. Just before the bus makes impact, a hardshell suitcase hits him across the head and shoulders. He loses focus on keeping a hold of her for a brief flash of a moment. 

It’s barely a blip, but it’s enough.

“Matt!”

He tries to reach for her as she falls but he gropes at nothing but air. “Sylvie!”

Another item falls from an overhead bin as they slam into the ground. He doesn’t see what it is, but as it hits him the world goes black.


	4. nine months ago and the present day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The road to recovery is never smooth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** Here it is! The final part! I know we didn’t get a new Chicago Fire this week but hopefully this helps hold you over a little! Thank you all so much for taking this AU journey with me and I’m so grateful to those of you who enjoyed it!
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> xoxo

******

_Wait for the signal and I'll meet you after dark,_

_Show me the places where the others gave you scars._

******

He woke up in a hospital and was briefed on what happened. A truck driver, delivering mattresses of all things, had fallen asleep at the wheel and crossed lanes on a narrow two lane road. He should have run right into them and killed them all, but Otis had swerved at just the right moment. Instead of crashing into the oncoming semi truck, the bus overturned onto its side. 

They were lucky, the first responders had said. It could have been much worse. They’d escaped with one seriously injured person and one fatality.

They didn’t feel lucky.

Most of them had minor bumps, bruises, and cuts. Sylvie broke her arm in three places and had to have surgery. But Otis…

His last ditch efforts to keep the collision from becoming more deadly than it was cost him his life. He sustained the brunt of the damage when the bus crashed down on it’s side. He died en route to the hospital. 

It was senseless and tragic.

They all knew they would never fully recover.

Sure, their physical wounds would heal but the emotional scars would never go away. All they could do was be there for each other.

But for Matt, it was more than that. At this point in his life, he knew he was put on this earth to protect and support Sylvie. He felt that calling in his bones more than ever.

For the first time since they met, he’d failed to keep her safe. He literally let her slip through his fingers and because of that she’d gotten hurt.

He had a hard time forgiving himself afterward.

******

_**9** months ago…_

******

Her cast comes off today.

The rest of the shows were cancelled and the tour ended early so that they could all heal and recover, but Sylvie especially needed the time. The way her arm had broken required her to be in a cast for three months.

Today, that three months is up.

Matt’s been with her nearly every day since the accident. Any thoughts Matt had about telling her how he felt had been buried under grief and guilt. First, he needed to get her through the aftermath of the bus crash. Maybe after that he could revisit telling her how he feels.

Right now they both need a friend more than anything else.

She gave him a key to her house. He would have been able to get in anyway as her head of security but she’d given him the key as a gesture of friendship. The trust she still has in him, even after he failed her, blows him away.

He walks in the front door of her penthouse apartment on the top floor of a Chicago high rise and throws his keys on her counter and his jacket on the back of the couch.

“Hey, I’m here,” he calls out to the empty space.

“Back here! You mind giving me a hand?”

He walks toward her bedroom, following her voice. He passes the piano on the way, which appears to be covered in an unusual amount of dust. He hasn’t asked her but he gets the impression she hasn’t written anything since the crash. He can feel her frustration anytime they’re together even if they never bring it up.

He finds her standing in front of her closet in jeans and a sleeveless top with a cardigan and a jacket tucked under her good arm. 

“I cannot wait to get this damn thing off,” she grumbles. “I managed to get the rest of the outfit on but not being able to bend my arm makes putting on a sweater or a coat nearly impossible. I could wear that ugly shawl thing my mom bought me but I’m sick of it. I want to wear an actual coat so I am determined to put this stupid sweater and coat on, Matt. _Determined_.”

“Well, that’s why I’m here. To help. And you only have to deal with the cast for another hour at most and then you’ll be rid of it,” Matt reassures her as he takes the sweater and the coat from her. 

He sets the coat down on her bed but holds up the cardigan for her to slip her uninjured arm through. Once that arm is through he carefully guides the other sleeve over her cast. If they weren’t still in that strange in-between period of not quite winter and not quite spring he’d tell her to skip the sweater all together, but Sylvie is naturally cold natured and the chilling Chicago temperatures don’t help. She needs the cardigan even if it’s a hassle with the cast.

He then helps her with her coat, ignoring her huff when he has to zip it up for her.

“I feel like a child,” she complains with an exasperated sigh. “I hate this.”

“So you’ve said,” he reminds her teasingly. “But again it’s just--”

“One more hour. I know. Still sucks though.”

“We’ll stop and get burgers on the way home,” he says, grinning warmly at her. “That’ll make you feel better.”

“It will,” she confirms, flashing him a small smile. “It really will.”

The car is waiting for them when they reach the bottom floor. Matt makes sure she’s in and settled first before stepping in himself.

He clears his throat and scratches the back of his neck, knowing he’s about to bring up a sensitive topic they’ve expertly avoided until now.

“Your piano looked neglected.”

“That’s because it is neglected. Kinda hard to write songs with one hand.” Her tone isn’t snippy, just tense.

“I’ve seen you do it before. You wrote an entire bridge once while holding a Starbucks cup in one hand and playing piano with the other,” he reminds her with a sideways smirk.

“I said it was hard, not impossible.”

Now _that_ was snippy. Reading between the lines, he knows that means _leave me alone_ but there’s no way that’s going to happen. “I’m just worried about you, Sylvie. That’s all.”

“ _You’re_ worried about _me_?” She asks incredulously.

She sounds offended and he has no idea why. “Yes. What’s wrong with that?”

“Because you’re the one who’s stopped talking,” she tells him softly. “You speak to me, sure. You check on me. You take care of me. But you never _talk to me_. Not anymore.”

Her voice sounds thick with tears and he hates it. She won’t look at him either. He has a feeling her eyes are glassy and raw. She hates crying in front of anyone. Even him.

“You’ve been next to me every day for three months but it’s never _felt_ that way. Sometimes I think you’re still emotionally sitting in that bus crash but you won’t talk to me about anything anymore so I have no idea what to do about it,” she confesses with a sniffle. “I need you right now, Matt, and I think you need me too, but for whatever reason you’ve been pushing me away. And I’m done pretending everything between us is fine when it clearly isn’t.”

Is that true? Has he been pushing her away?

He’s been trying to focus on her. Her grief, her pain, her injuries. He dealt with his pain when he went home each night. He tossed and turned remembering the feeling of her slipping from his hold and the sound of her screaming his name in fear. His mind re-lived his failure over and over again.

He doesn’t deserve to have her comfort him. He’s the one that has to make up for a mistake. _Not her_. His problems are his alone. He will not pile them onto her already full plate and so he kept them to himself.

Has that resulted in him pulling away from her?

“Sylvie, I—“

He’s been so caught up in his thoughts he didn’t realize they’d arrived until the driver opened her door, interrupting whatever he was trying to say. (He has no idea what that would have been.) He thinks about what to say as they’re ushered into a waiting room. They’re alone which is good, but he doesn’t really want to have a conversation this personal here and now.

He does need to say _something_ though.

He leans toward her to speak softly, despite the fact that there’s no one else in the room. “I’m sorry. I—I didn’t realize I was pushing you away.”

“But _why_ are you pushing me away?” She asks, eyes still watering.

Because he loves her and he almost lost her, for good this time, and it’s his own fault. He doesn’t deserve her after that — truthfully, he never did.

“Can we talk about it at home once we’re done with your appointment?” He asks. “I’d like to have this conversation in private.”

And he’d like to stall so he can figure out how to tell her he loves her without actually saying the words. Crossing that line beyond friendship is more terrifying now than ever before.

She nods but still looks disappointed. They sit in awkward silence, but luckily not for too long. A nurse comes and calls her back for her appointment. Matt waits by the exam room door.

When she comes back out the cast is gone and she insists on putting on her cardigan and coat without any help from him. When she’s done she smiles wanly to herself and lets out a relieved sigh.

“Finally,” she mutters, barely loud enough for him to hear. “Something feels normal again.”

The fact that he’s a part of those _things_ that haven’t been normal finally hits him. The realization hurts. This whole time he thought he was giving her what she needed but he’d been falling short.

How does he fix it?

“You ready?” He asks.

She nods. “Yes, burgers then home. I have more I want to say to you.”

More? Jesus, he already feels guilty enough. What else is there?

They get their food to go and take it back to her place. Once they get back, they sit on stools at her breakfast bar to eat. He watches her out of the corner of his eye and debates whether he should talk first or let her bring up whatever else she needs to talk about. Her eyes meet his every so often and he can tell she hasn’t forgotten. She’s letting them eat before whatever lengthy discussion they’re about to have. She’s giving him time to prepare. She knows talking about his emotions isn’t his strength and it only makes him love her more.

She finishes her last french fry and then turns her stool to face him. “I miss you.”

“I’m right here,” he assures her.

“No, you’re not. Not really. You’ve been here for me, yes, but you haven’t let me return the favor. This, _us_ , has always been reciprocal. The fact that you’re not leaning on me...it’s unsettling. Do you just want to be colleagues now, is that it? I don’t understand why you’re pulling away from me.”

“No,” he replies adamantly. He’s appalled she’d ever think he didn’t want to be close to her. “I never want you to be seperate from my life. Ever. You’re definitely stuck with me.”

“Then what’s wrong? I’m grieving Otis too and those tough emotions are a lot easier to deal with when you and I deal with them together. We haven’t been doing that,” she says, her brow pinching and her eyes watering.

“I don’t deserve any of this to be easier,” he confesses. “I don’t deserve _you_.”

“Of course you do,” Sylvie declares, reaching over and grabbing his hand. “How can you say that?”

“At a moment when I should have kept you safe, I let you go,” he states. 

His emotions nearly choke off the last word completely. His hand tightens around hers, realizing it’s her left hand that’s holding his. That wrist was broken and her left elbow was fractured in two places. His other hand encircles her wrist, noticing it’s thinner than it’s twin. He had broken bones as a kid. He knows the muscle atrophies while it’s in the cast, but it makes her seem frail. Sylvie should never seem frail. She’s the strongest person he knows.

She sucks in a sharp breath when his fingers trail up her forearm. Her skin is soft and pale after being hidden from the sun. He can’t stop touching it or staring at her healed arm. He remembers hearing Emily talk about discovering her after the accident -- her arm twisted at an odd angle, Sylvie screaming in pain. He’s thankful he was unconscious and didn’t have to see or hear it. It would have shredded him to pieces.

“Matt, that wasn’t your fault,” she says, bringing her right hand over to stop his exploration of her skin.

“Yes, it was. It’s my job to protect you and I tried. I held onto you as tightly as I could but it wasn’t-- _I wasn’t_ enough.”

“No, that’s not true. That’s never going to be true,” Sylvie replies, fingers tightening around his hands. “You did absolutely everything you physically could for me, Matt. I have always known that. It was an accident. A freak accident. No one could have stopped it. Not you. Not me. Not even _Otis_.” Her voice breaks over their late friend’s name before she lifts Matt’s hand from her arm and presses it to her lips. She presses the back of his hand to her cheek before she continues speaking. “If you hadn’t held onto me as long as you did I could have died. Do you realize that? Yes, I got hurt, but I’m here. I’m _alive_ because of you. You didn’t get me hurt. You saved my life.”

“I could have done more,” he protests, but it’s a weak effort. Her words are soothing him. He can feel it. But he’s loathed himself for most of his life so accepting her praise is difficult.

“No, you did exactly what you should have done,” she says with firm confidence. “You weighed the variables and you made a decision. A _good_ decision. You always make the good decision.” She releases his hands and stands from her stool, coming to stand in front him. Her hands, callused from a lifetime of playing guitar, frame his face while her thumbs caress his cheeks. “You’re the best person I’ve ever known, Matt Casey. I trust you with my life and I always will. The fact that this is what you’ve been struggling with all this time breaks my heart. Why didn’t you tell me you felt this way sooner?”

His hands come to rest on her wrists with his fingers grazing her pulse points. It’s a welcome reminder of exactly how _alive_ she truly is. “I was trying to make up for my mistake -- to be there for you in a way I wasn’t during the accident.”

“You have nothing to make up for,” she promises. “You never did. You lost as much as I did and you were hurt too. You’re allowed to let other people support you through it. I _want_ to support you through it.”

He releases her wrist to wrap his arms around her. His hands land on her back and pull her closer, pushing her forward until she steps between his legs. He presses his forehead to hers, meeting her eyes and knowing his are just as red and watery as hers.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” she replies. “All you have to do is let me back in.”

He nods against her forehead causing their noses to bump and his lips to brush the corner of her mouth. He feels a shock. A sudden zing. The air around them shifts and he suddenly registers the sound of her breathing and the way her warm breath mixes with his. One of her hands falls from his cheek and lands on his chest, just over his heart. He’s certain she can feel his heart pounding through his shirt, double it’s normal rate.

“This probably isn’t the best time for this,” Sylvie mutters, her eyes focusing on his lips. “And I might regret it later, but right now I don’t give a damn.”

He starts to ask her what she means but he never gets the chance. She pushes up on her toes and her lips meet his. The shock from earlier is back, but it spreads throughout his body this time and causes every inch of him to sizzle. He closes his eyes but just as he begins to lean into it, she pulls back. The kiss is over before it really begins and he already misses the taste of her.

Her throat constricts in a nervous swallow and her eyes search his face for a reaction. Otis’ words from before the accident come back to him. He warned him not to be afraid to take this last step. She’s what he wants. _She_ is what he’s always wanted.

He swoops back in and groans in relief when their lips connect again.

Her lips are soft but insistent and eager. She pours everything she has into kissing him. Her hands run through his hair and over his cheeks and then down his shoulders. His skin warms everywhere she touches him. She tastes salty from the fries and all it does is make his thirst for her ten times greater. She’s more perfect than he ever dreamed she would be.

Kissing her is everything that’s been missing from his life. How can he miss something he’s never had before? Well, he’s not quite sure about that to be honest, but regardless it’s _true_. He stands from the stool, his hands skim down her sides until he can get a grip under her thighs. He lifts and she jumps at the exact same moment. It’s a display of agility that neither of them have ever had on their own. His arms band around her waist and back to hold her securely while he walks them to her couch.

He lays her down on it and then lays himself over her, careful never to lean all his weight against her. With her legs still wrapped around his waist, the friction between them is enticing. He can’t resist grinding himself against her while his lips leave hers to trail kisses along her jaw and then her neck.

She gasps as he finds her pulse in her neck and sucks gently.

“Oh my God,” she moans, arching underneath him. For a moment they’re lost in each other until he feels Sylvie’s hands press against his shoulders and hears her murmur his name. “Matt. Matt, wait.”

He immediately pulls back, pushing up with one hand on the armrest behind her head. “What? Are you okay? Should we slow down?”

“I’m fine and no,” she says with a blushing grin and a shake of her head. “I don’t want to slow down. I just--I think if we’re going to cross this line we should talk about it first. I need to know where we stand before I jump in, you know?”

“Where we stand?” He asks, repeating her words back to her.

She nods. “Yes. You’re my best friend and I don’t want to screw this up.”

Hearing her call him her best friend out loud causes his eyes to water. He knows they’re close as they can be but hearing that knowledge spoken between them gives him a thrill like no other. “You’re my best friend too.”

“I am?” She asks, tears shining in her eyes. “What about Severide?”

A watery chuckle escapes him and he shakes his head. “He’s more of an annoying brother than a friend.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Sylvie replies with a snicker.

“You want to know where you stand,” Matt says, more to himself than to her. He knows where she stands and he’s been scared to death to tell her about it for years. If the accident and mourning Otis taught him anything, it’s that there’s really only one thing to be scared of: losing her. She’s become his family. His world. The love of his life. He brings a hand to her cheek and caresses his thumb along her cheekbone. “I love you, Sylvie Brett. I’ve loved you for so long that I’m not even sure when it happened. All I know is that loving you came to me as easily as breathing.”

“You love me?” She asks with a look of disbelief.

“For a long time now.”

A single tear falls down her cheek. He catches it with his thumb and wipes it away.

“I love you too,” she confesses. “I have for years. I tried not to because I never thought--I never thought you’d want me too. But through everything, it’s always been you.” Her fingers card through his hair and soothingly scrape over his scalp. “It’s _always_ been you,” she repeats, her eyes never leaving his.

All this time, they’d been on the exact same page and they’d never known it.

They wasted so much time by being afraid.

Well, no more.

They aren’t wasting another single second. He leans down, kissing her deeply and intrusively. There’s no fear holding them back anymore. They’re free to get as carried away as they like now. Which they proceed to do, eventually moving to her bedroom and staying there for the remainder of the day -- twisted in the bed sheets and tangled with each other.

The next morning he wakes up with her naked chest snuggled into his. His arms are around her back, hers are around his neck, and her face is pressed into the curve of his throat. Every inch of him is in contact with some part of her and it’s the best feeling in the world. Nothing else has ever or will ever top waking up with Sylvie Brett in his arms.

But then he remembers one of the reasons he tried to avoid having feelings for her in the first place. Will she expect him to give up his job now? He doesn’t want to work for anyone else. He enjoys being her partner professionally and he doesn’t want to give that up simply because they’re partners _personally_ now too. He likes the team he works with and he enjoys the challenges his job entails.

Though, he knows, if she asks him to go he will.

He’ll do anything to make her happy.

A kiss is placed against his skin, letting him know Sylvie’s awake. She nuzzles her face into his neck and inhales deeply, exhaling a satisfied sigh.

“I could get used to this,” she tells him with a groggy yet giddy giggle. “I like waking up with you.”

He drops a kiss to the top of her head and leaves his lips pressed there as he nods his agreement. “I like waking up with you too.”

She cranes back to meet his eyes, expression full of worry. “You sound pensive. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Matt,” she says with a knowing glance.

He huffs and then shakes his head. “It’s nothing. Really. I was just thinking about what would happen if I got a new job.”

“A new job?” She asks in confusion. “Why would you get a new job?”

“You know, because we’re...an _us_ now,” he replies, awkwardly clearing his throat.

“I don’t understand,” she says in confusion. “Are you not comfortable working for me because we’re seeing each other?”

“No,” he replies immediately. “I don’t care about that.”

“Then why do you think I would?” She asks, looking concerned and thoughtful. 

“Well, I don’t know. Some people might consider it a conflict of interest.”

“Those people must not know _you_. You’ve never been anything but professional with me. I would never want to have anyone other than you running my security team,” Sylvie insists. He can hear fear slowly creeping into her voice. “Please tell me you don’t plan on quitting. I don’t see why we can’t continue to work tog—“

“I’m not quitting,” he says, urgently interrupting her with a soft kiss. He leans back to meet her eyes with a confident gaze. “If you want me then I’m staying. I was just concerned you might not want me to stay.”

“I don’t want you to stay, Matt. I _need_ you to stay. We’ve always worked well together. That’s not going to change,” she assures him. “I know you genuinely want what’s best for me and you never dismiss my thoughts or concerns. I feel _safe_ with you, personally and professionally. I’m not going to find that with anyone else. We’re a team, you and me. No matter what.”

He smiles wide and bright and nods, leaning down to kiss her once more. “You’re right. We’re a team.” He rests his brow against hers and nudges her nose with his before repeating her last sentiment. “No matter what.”

******

_Now this is an open/shut case,_

_I guess I should've known from the look on your face,_

_Every bait and switch was a work of art._

******

**_P_** _resent day…_

******

Today is a big day.

Sylvie is beginning work on her next album. It’s been three years since her last album, two since her last single, and just over one since her last tour. She went underground after the bus crash. At first to recover physically and then to recover emotionally, and Matt had been with her every step of the way. They recovered together. Still are.

Most of those steps to recovery had been heartbreaking but this one is exciting. He can tell she’s nervous. She’s been scribbling songs on every scrap of paper she can find over the last several months. He’s heard a few of them and they’re all unlike anything she’s ever written before.

It’s been a long time since she was “that crossover country girl” he met nearly a decade ago. Now she’s Sylvie Brett, pop icon and one of the most prolific songwriters working today. She’s bigger than anyone ever imagined she’d be. He has a feeling she’s about to become even more impressive than she already is — as impossible as that seems.

They’re in an elevator, on their way up to a recording studio, and in the corner of the elevator he can see Sylvie nervously shifting on her feet and fiddling with the watchband on her wrist. He’s the only other person in the elevator with her so there’s no harm in checking on her.

He takes her hand and tugs it away from her wrist, lifting her fingers to his lips. “You okay?”

She nods, closing her eyes to take in the feeling of his kiss. “Yeah. I’m good. It’s just been a while since I’ve been in a studio and I’m wondering if I’ve lost it.”

“Lost what?” He asks in confusion.

“My talent.”

Matt laughs and then stares at her in disbelief. “You wrote an entire song in _one_ day yesterday. Not one verse, one chorus, or a backing track — an entire song. I don’t think losing your talent is an issue you have to worry about, Sylvie.”

“Just because I wrote a song doesn’t mean it’s any good.”

“If it isn’t any good, which I doubt very much, what’s the _worst_ that can happen?” He asks her pointedly.

“Well, I guess—I guess I just don’t record it,” she answers, visibly relaxing at his reminder.

“Exactly,” he replies, squeezing her hand. “You’re in control of your music. You don’t have to record any music you don’t like. Not anymore.”

She breathes deeply and exhales slowly. “You’re right. And everyone I work with now _wants_ me to succeed. They’ll be honest if something doesn’t work.”

It’s true. Sylvie refuses to work with people who might be too intimidated by her to give their real opinion. She values honesty in the same way he values loyalty.

The elevator stops and the doors open. He releases her hand to place his on the elevator doors and keeps it there while she exits. He trails behind her, keeping an eye on their surroundings.

“Thank you, Matt,” Sylvie says suddenly as they reach the studio.

“For what?”

“For being there when I need you. Every time.”

“You never have to thank me for that,” he promises her with an adoring smile. “Being there for you is exactly where I will always want to be.”

Her fingers wrap around the lapels of his jacket and yank his lips down to hers. Until a couple of months ago she was reluctant to take their relationship public. She was afraid of exposing him to the scrutiny that comes with her fame. But they talked through it and he made it clear to her that none of that shit matters to him. He knows the real her and no gossip rag is going to convince him he doesn’t. Since then she’s been more and more openly affectionate. He’s in awe of the way she’s facing her fears for him. Her bravery will never stop being amazing.

The kiss is rather innocent but it definitely lingers. She pulls away with a wide smile and then takes his hand, threading their fingers together before opening the studio door.

“I am here!” She exclaims to the room. “Who’s ready to work?”

“I am!” Stella replies excitedly. Stella started as one of Sylvie’s background singers but quickly proved herself as a talented songwriter and producer. She’d become one of Sylvie’s favorite collaborators. “Let’s kick some musical ass!”

Sylvie releases his hand and then kisses his cheek quickly before she leaves him to check in with her band.

Stella approaches him as Sylvie walks away and shoves a small robin’s egg blue box in his hand. “Kelly told me to pass that along to you for later.”

“Thank you,” Matt replies with a nervous gulp as he quickly stuffs the box in his jacket pocket.

He did mention today is a big day, right?

“And Joe and Chloe are at her place right now dropping off the groceries you asked for, by the way. So, you’re proposing over a homemade dinner and candlelight, huh?” Stella asks him with an eager smirk. “Sounds romantic.”

“I hope so and _you_ cannot say anything to her about it, okay?” Matt says, glaring and pointing a scolding finger at her.

“Your girlfriend is the one who can’t keep a secret,” Stella reminds him, shoving his finger away from her face. “Not me. And relax, she’s gonna say yes. That woman loves you more than life itself. Trust me. I know exactly which of her new songs are about _you_ and they’re easily the most beautiful ones. You don’t write songs like that unless you’ve met your soulmate.”

“Hold on,” Matt says, eyes narrowing on her curiously. “Which songs? And how many exactly?”

He knew of a handful of them that Sylvie had mentioned specifically but were there more than that? A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he thought about some of the lyrics he knew were about their relationship.

“Practically an entire album’s worth,” Stella answered quickly as her eyes drifted toward the band in the recording booth. “Shit, she’s coming back. If she asks we were talking about Kelly’s obsession with his new grill.”

“How long is that obsession gonna last anyway?” Matt asks her, seizing the opportunity for a subject change. “He essentially bought out an entire butcher shop last I talked to him.”

She rolls her eyes and chuckles dryly. “Your guess is as good as mine, but please come over and let him cook for you. I don’t have room in my freezer for anything that’s not meat and it’s highly inconvenient for my ice cream habit.”

“I’ll keep extra ice cream in my freezer for you,” Sylvie offers with an overly sweet smile as she joins them.

Stella laughs and shakes her head. “Nope. I know better than that. With your sweet tooth you’d eat all of it before I even had one spoonful.” She squeezes Sylvie’s arm and then walks away from them. “I’m gonna go check our sound levels.”

Sylvie nods as Stella leaves and Matt’s relieved Stella was able to see her coming. Surprising Sylvie is one of his favorite things. She claims to hate surprises but every time he succeeds at it her face lights up like a kid on Christmas. He loves it as much as he loves her. 

“I was thinking,” he says, feigning carelessness -- as if he hasn’t been planning this dinner for at least a month. “What if I cook you dinner tonight at your place. Just the two of us.”

She wraps her arms around him and snuggles into his chest with her head on his shoulder. “Oh, I would love that! Over candlelight?”

He nods and rests his chin on the top of her head. “Of course.”

“Sounds very romantic,” she agrees, pulling away to look up at him. “What’s the occasion?”

He shrugs. “Celebrating your first day working on the new album. In fact, we should make it a tradition. From here on out, let’s celebrate the first day of each album with a romantic dinner.”

“I like traditions,” she replies with a wide smile.

“I know,” he tells her with a chuckle.

She leans up on her toes and steals a quick kiss before speaking again. “And that one sounds like one you and I can keep going for a long time which makes it even better. I love it. And I love you.”

“I love you too,” he replies, unable to resist kissing her one more time. “Now, go get to work. I’ll be right outside if you need me.”

“I always need you,” Sylvie quips with a wink and a grin as she pulls herself away from him. “And I always will.”

“Trust me,” he says stepping backwards toward the door. “The feeling’s mutual.”

And he’s got the ring in his pocket to prove it.


End file.
